Why do I feel this way?
by That Girl Teresa
Summary: Rated for language. Kim struggles through life trying to cope with emotions. Romance, friendship, and death all complicate her life. Will she ever figure it out?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hey peeps! This is my first fic I'm putting up here, so you should be nice and review (. I hope it doesn't suck too badly.  
  
I was walking home from school by myself contemplating what I was going to do that night. It was a Friday night, and unlike usual, I didn't have any plans. I was completely lost in my thoughts when a voice drew me back into reality.  
  
"Heya Kim! What the hell are you up to?" I smiled when I realized I was passing by the Curtis' house. All the boys that hung around there were really cute.  
  
I surveyed the young man who called out to me. "Holy shit! Dallas Winston! I thought you were sent up! When did you get out of the cooler?" Dally had a rap sheet longer than anyone I had ever known, and that was saying something considering the fact that I had the tendency to hang around with hoods. I then noticed the tow boys Dally was hanging with. "Hiya Johnny, Ponyboy." Those two were adorable, but were a little bit too young for me to go after.  
  
The younger two nodded and Dallas answered my question. "Yeah, I got out on Tuesday. So what, or who," Dally said with a wink, "are you doing tonight?"  
  
I shook my head and gave just a little giggle. Dally and I had a past of a couple (as oxymoronic as it may sound) one-night stands. "I don't know yet. Do you know of anything that is going on?"  
  
"Nah," came the reply. "There's a party at Buck's place, but then again, there's always a party at Buck's. You should stop by."  
  
"Maybe I will," I doubtfully said. I said goodbye to the boys and headed on my way home. I wasn't in the mood to go to Buck's. Last time I had drunk way too much and blacked out. "Besides," I thought to myself, "Dally sounded like he might want to hook up, and I'm just not into him."  
  
I sighed. Not for the first time I began regretting sleeping with Dally. In fact, I regretted sleeping with almost all the guys I had slept with. I used to be pretty close to this really "nice". She wasn't a Soc, but she was middle class. Anyway, one time she asked me, "Why Kim? Why do you drink and sleep around? Why not save yourself for the right man?"  
  
I had often contemplated the question, but I was never able to find an answer for it. All I knew was that it sort of seemed to fill a hole I felt inside of me. Plus all the girls I knew, besides the occasional nice middle class or even Soc girl, would make fun of me if I were too virginly. Some girls even kept long lists of the guys they've been with, but I wasn't trashy enough to keep a list.  
  
As I drew nearer to the block that I lived on, I was once again drawn back to reality from my thoughts by a voice. "Hello! Earth to Kim!" I looked around to discover that I was passing by the Shepard's house, and Angela Shepard was calling out to me from her shabby porch.  
  
"Hey girl" I replied. Angela and I were on decent terms. I was a couple years older than her, so we weren't really close. Plus, she was one of those trashy girls who kept a list of the guys she had slept with. "What are you doing tonight?" I asked her. Angela usually knew of something that was going on.  
  
"I dunno," she replied. "I think me and some girls are going to the movies to pick up some guys. Do ya wanna come? We could have some fun wrangling up some guys!"  
  
This didn't sound anymore appealing to me than Buck's and I was about to turn Angela down, but I was stopped by my heart doing flip-flops in my chest. I immediately felt self-conscious and began to wonder if my hair and makeup looked all right, which was unusual. I never felt that way around guys, only with Tim.  
  
"Well, hey Kim," Tim said to me. "Long time no see. What, have you been hiding out or something?"  
  
I smiled and even blushed a little bit. "Nah," I replied, "I just haven't been to Buck's lately. I've been busy. you know, so many boys, so little time." I laughed when Tim did. The problem was, it was a total lie. I had in fact not hooked up with any guys since I had last seen Tim, and the truth was I had been avoiding him. He and his skanky girlfriend had gotten back together, and it made me sick to see them all over each other, not to mention insanely jealous.  
  
"So," I asked Tim shyly, "how's Cynthia?"  
  
To my surprise, Tim started cussing and spit on the ground. "I caught the stupid bitch cheating on me. We're though."  
  
I perked up slightly when he said this, and I noticed that Angela gave me a suspicious look form behind Tim's back. "That's too bad, "I said trying desperately to keep the excitement from my voice. "What are you doing tonight?" Despite my efforts I could hear some of the excitement seeping into my voice. I couldn't help it. I was so glad that I wouldn't need to avoid him anymore.  
  
"Ah shit, I'm gonna get ragin' drunk, slash tires, and then go to Buck's, where I plan on passin' out." That decided it for me. I was going to Buck's that night. I politely (okay, as politely as greasers get) excused myself from our conversation and headed home with a fresh bounce in my step. I need to find the perfect outfit to ensnare Tim and finally make him mine. 


	2. Chapter 2

I suppose I should do this. I don't own the Outsiders. Anyone you recognize doesn't belong to me, etc. etc. Consider yourself disclaimed now.  
  
A/N: Thanks so much for those reviews! Not much happens in this chapter, it's mostly just to introduce more about Kim and her family. Keep those reviews coming!! They give me a reason to keep writing.  
  
I had just gotten out of the shower and was standing in nothing but my towel in front of my closet. Nothing I saw was what I was looking for, until I pulled out a short burgundy leather skirt. It was really sexy, but I had always lacked both a reason and the guts to wear it. That night, though, I was pulling no stops. I put it on, and began looking for a top. I couldn't find one that would be sexy enough though.  
  
I looked around the room and saw my sister sitting on her bed writing in her diary. We shared a tiny room in our tiny house. She had the bottom bunk and I had the top bunk. I got the closet and she got the dresser (we couldn't fit two dressers in the room). I glanced over at her dresser. Becca was only eleven years old and was quite a bit smaller than me, especially when it came to bust size.  
  
"Hmm, I wonder." I said to quietly to myself. "Hey Becca," I said louder, "Can I borrow a shirt from you?"  
  
Becca looked up from her diary. She was always writing in that thing. She seemed a bit confused. "Borrow a shirt from me? I suppose so."  
  
"Becca is so young and naïve," I thought to myself with a chuckle. I never told about the less reputable things I did, and yet hidden in the back corner of my mind, I wondered how much actually knew about the darker aspects of life. Unlike most girls her age, Becca was always quiet and serious. I always pushed those thoughts away thinking, "She's just a kid."  
  
"Aha!" I exclaimed as I pulled a black tank top out that Becca wore for pajamas and put it on. It hugged my every curve and Becca's skeptical reaction to my appearance told me that it was exactly what I was looking for.  
  
An hour later I was finally dressed and ready to go, from my hair to my shoes. I had curly black hair that I had cut just above my shoulders. I sighed and fingered a curl gently. I had always considered going blonde. Tim, and most guys seemed to prefer them. However, I liked my black hair because it caused me to stand out from the typical trashy greaser chicks. When it came to my makeup, the burgundy skirt posed a slight problem. My usual blue eye shadow wouldn't go with it, so I went with a smoky gray instead. I stuck to my usual black eyeliner and mascara and red lipstick. I looked hot.  
  
It was eight o'clock when I grabbed my purse to head out. I checked to make sure I had everything I would need in it (extra makeup, etc.) and headed out of my room. I was just about to book it out of there when my step-mom stopped me. "And where do you think you're going missy? And in that outfit?"  
  
I groaned. I couldn't stand my step-mom. I gave her an evil glare and replied icily, "Out."  
  
I could tell that she was about to tell me off when my Dad interrupted. "Rosemary, what are you and Kim talking about?" he called from the living room. Rosemary (my step-mom) and I both headed out into the living room from the kitchen.  
  
Dad was sitting on the couch watching a game show and Becca was sitting on the floor on the other side of the room reading a book. "Daddy," I asked in my sweetest voice, "Can I go out tonight?"  
  
Dad looked at me and asked, "Are you goin' to stay out all night?" I shifted slightly. I never could tell how much Dad disliked my staying out all the time. He usually never stopped me, but still I could feel everyone's eyes on me, Rosemary's, Dad's, even Becca's. I caught Becca's eye and saw a hopeful gleam in it.  
  
"Yeah," I replied somewhat uneasily, "is that okay Daddy?" I saw Becca's face turn from hopeful to disappointed and slightly worried. She never seemed to like it when I went out all night. I guessed it was because she was worried about me.  
  
"Sure, hun," Dad said after a brief moment. I threw a triumphant look at Rosemary and hurried out the door. Just as I was exiting my tiny house, I heard Rosemary raise her voice at my dad. "Jack, why the hell." Her words became indistinguishable as I shut the door and headed on down the way. The last thing I heard was my Dad screaming something. "Poor Becca," I thought. "Now she has to put up with their bitching all night." I continued on to my quest to claim Tim. 


	3. Chapter 3

I own only those you don't recognize and all of that other normal disclaimer stuff.  
  
A/N: Hey y'all. It's been a while since I updated. I've been busy. I actually have quite a bit written down in a notebook, but I have difficulty finding time to type it up. Stupid classes. Anyway, this is only the first part of the chapter. It was getting pretty long for a chapter, and I just wanted to get something up on the site before too long. This chapter should maybe rated R. there is some sexual type situations and plenty of swearing, so watch out. Enjoy, and as always: REVIEW!!  
  
By the time I got to Buck's house, the party had already started. I was encountered with a haze of smoke and loud music. I said hello to the people I knew, all the while scanning the crowd for Tim. I saw Dally sitting at a table playing poker with four other guys. I din't know two of the them, but the other two were John Griffin and Two-Bit Matthews. I had dated John for a brief period of time and Two-Bit and I always liked to flirt back and forth.  
  
"Hey there Dally," I said as I approached the table. He gave me a grin and wrapped an arm around my waist.  
  
"Glad you're here Kim," Dally said. "You gonna be my good luck charm tonight?" I saw Two-Bit give a large wink to Dally and John laughed.  
  
I rolled my eyes at their immaturity, but yet found it funny. I decided to play along. "I dunno," I replied in my flirtiest tone, "first I gotta see who's all here." I giggled and playfully tried to push Dally away. However, he tried to pull me closer. Despite my flirty façade, alarm bells were going off in my head. I had to watch it with Dally. I could smell the booze on him and if he thought I was his for the night, he'd get really possessive. He wouldn't let any guys talk to me, and then how would I get Tim?  
  
Dally responded to my flirtiness by trying to assure me that he was the best option I had for the night. Little did he know that I only had one option for the night, and I couldn't even tell if he was there. "Ah, honey," Dally said, "ain't nobody special here. There's a couple of the Brumley boys, lousy hoods," I smiled-Dallas Winston condemning someone for being a hood was rather ironic-"There's John here, but y'all broke that off a while ago. So you see baby, I'm the best you're gonna get tonight."  
  
"I'm not so sure. Two-Bit is looking pretty cute tonight." After I said this, Two-Bit cocked an eyebrow and tried to put on a sexy face; however, he failed miserably. He looked so comical that I burst out laughing. Dally even cracked a smile although I could sense his jealousy level starting to rise.  
  
Dally started to retort something when one of the guys I didn't know angrily interrupted, "Damn it Dallas! Are we gonna play cards or are you going ta sit here and chat with this greasy, no good slut all night??"  
  
This pissed Dally off. He slapped the stranger's cards out of his hands and growled, "Don't you call Kim that. If you do it again I'll knock every one of your teeth out!"  
  
"Yeah," chimed in Two-Bit. "Kim's the most sweetest, classiest, sophisticated slut I know!" Apparently Two-Bit found his own little comment hilarious because he started laughing hysterically. Even though I knew Two-Bit was joking (and probably a bit drunk) I was still offended.  
  
"Fuck you, Two Bit Matthews!" I yelled. I turned and stormed off. I hated being called a slut. I didn't REALLY want to sleep with the guys I did. I usually just ended up having sex with them because, well, I wasn't sure why. I shook my head. I needed to find Tim. He was the sole reason I had even gone to the party, and.  
  
"Two Bit say somethin' to piss you off?" My heart leapt and the butterflies in my stomach started fluttering. It was HIS voice. I whirled around and faced Tim. He was looking down on me and smiling. "He'll do that sometimes."  
  
My flirty words got caught in my throat. I just couldn't act with him the same way that I did with other guys. "So," I said, suddenly shy, "how's your night been?" Damn, I thought, I was never shy with guys.  
  
"It would be a whole helluva lot better if Cynthia wasn't here. Stupid bitch," Tim said. "Other than that, I'm good. How 'bout you? Why ain't you drunk yet?"  
  
I shook my head. "I don't know. I guess 'cause I just got here, and I guess I just haven't had time to start yet." Just then Cynthia walked by and gave a large wink to Tim. He scowled and cursed loudly. I gave a little sigh. "Look Tim," I said seriously, "if you need to talk, or want advice or something, you know. to get some of the stuff off your chest, I'll always listen. Anytime, I'll lend an ear."  
  
Tim smiled. "Thanks babe. You're really a sweetheart. You and Dally goin' ta hook up tonight? Ya'll make a good couple. No? Well, get with somebody tonight. I know I'm gonna get with every blonde here! And get some booze in you damn it!" Tim called out the last few words as he disappeared into the crowd.  
  
My heart sank. Why couldn't I get him? He didn't even notice the effort I put forth into my appearance. Instead he saw straight through me to the nearest blonde. "Who cares?" I falsely tried to reassure myself. "If he wants to flirt with all the blondes, then I'll just flirt with a bunch of guys. Maybe then he'll notice how wanted I am and get jealous. Hell, it worked on Dally." It was true; that was how I had first captured Dally's attention when I decided that I wanted it.  
  
The question was, who to flirt with? Dally was too serious about the flirting and would expect more than I wanted to give out. I scanned the crowd and I saw Two Bit. "Why not?" I thought. "He loves to flirt and he's even pretty cute." Two Bit was no longer playing poker; instead, he was sitting on the a couch nursing a bottle of alcohol and watching TV.  
  
I walked up behind him and covered his eyes with my hands. "Guess who!"  
  
"Um, Mickey Mouse?" he playfully guessed.  
  
I sat on his lap and said just as playfully, "Nah. It's me: Kim!"  
  
Two Bit smiled. "Hey Kim, I'm sorry I called you a slut."  
  
"Ah," I said while brushing it away with a hand, "it's not a big deal. Besides, it might have been a little bit true." Two Bit and I laughed and flirted for a while, until I saw Tim hea upstairs-to the bedrooms-with a random girl. Tim caught my eye and gave me a wink and thumbs up before he followed his bleach blonde bimbo upstairs.  
  
I was crushed. Not only had my plan failed, it had backfired. Tim wasn't jealous; on the contrary, he was glad for me. He thought I was happily going to be with Two Bit when I really wanted to be with Tim. I forlornly looked at the bottle in Two Bit's hands. I hadn't had a drink all night, and I was starting to think of how comforting the liquor would feel in me, numbing away the rejection. "Hey Two Bit. What'cha drinkin'?"  
  
"Brandy. Want some?" Before you could say alcoholic, Two Bit and I were downing the booze like there wasn't going to be a tomorrow. We must have finished that bottle off, because we ended up with a bottle of whiskey. The next thing I knew, Two Bit was nibbling on my neck as his hands slowly crept up underneath my shirt.  
  
I took one of Two Bit's wandering hands and led him upstairs. Buck only had two bedrooms, and one of them was occupied. "Probably by Tim," I bitterly thought. Two Bit and I entered the empty bedroom.  
  
Two Bit shut the door and I sat down on the bed. Two Bit came closer and I pulled him down on top of me. His lips came down on top of mine and we began fumbling with each other's clothing. Pretty soon both of us were topless.  
  
Just as things were getting really hot and heavy, the door opened and a tall figure stood in the doorway. Light flooded into the darkness. I clenched my eyes shut at the sudden light and Two Bit muttered "What the fuck." The figure in the door chuckled and entered the room. He pulled Two Bit off of me by the shoulders and pushed him out of the room.  
  
"Sorry man," the familiar voice said, "not tonight." He shut the door and turned on the lights. My eyes then confirmed what my ears told me: the guy who interrupted was Tim.  
  
I wanted to die, right then and there. The man of my dreams had just walked in on me getting down with another guy that I really cared nothing for. I felt dirty. The brand and whiskey flowing through my brain made my thoughts swim; my drunk brain couldn't comprehend why Tim had interrupted. The only conclusion I could draw was that my plan had worked. Tim had realized that he couldn't another guy having me. Of course, I was very drunk, and it turned out that I was wrong. 


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Just a short continuation of the previous chapter. I'm trying my best to not make Tim too out of character. I hope you like it, and as always: REVIEW!!  
  
  
  
Tim sat down on the down on the bed. "Sorry about interrupting and stuff. But you said you'd always listen and I sorta, ah, . I just need to talk to someone who won't give me shit about it."  
  
"It's fine," I replied, my heart sinking a little. So Tim wasn't in love with me; he didn't care that Two Bit and I were about to have sex. "What do you need to talk about?" I looked down and realized in horror that I was sitting there in only my skirt and bra. I tired to cover myself and desperately scanned the room for my top.  
  
Tim noticed my efforts, chuckled and draped his leather jacket around my shoulders. I gave him an appreciative smile before he continued, "Well, it's kinda embarrassing I guess. See, I was all for fucking Leigh Ann, but I couldn't do it. I mean, I was ABLE to do it, but I didn't want to. I mean, well, I wanted to. but I kept thinking of Cynthia! I don't get it. I don't wanna have anything to do with that greasy slut, but she was all I could think about."  
  
I nodded. Anyone else might have been shocked to hear Tim sound this way, and hear him talking about his feelings. I wasn't though. I knew that underneath of his tough, hood appearance there had to be a softer, human side. I hid one underneath of my slutty appearance. People just needed to take the time to find the inner person.  
  
"Look Tim, you and Cynthia dated for a long time. Even if it was on and off and on and, well, off again. But my point is, y'all had to have had some good times. Now that you're through for good, you can't just expect to forget all about your history right away. It's gonna take time. Just," I paused, thinking of how to hint towards myself, "lay off of the blondes for a while."  
  
Tim nodded. He broke into a large grin. "You're right Kim. Me and Cynthia, we had some good times. This one time we was slashing some tires and the cops came. Cynthia stayed behind pretending I mugged her. She was acting so hysterical that cops stayed to calm her down, so I could get away. Damn, I knew there had to be a reason that we dated for so long. We made a good team. I shouldn't be over her yet. Until I am, there will be no women for me!" Tim got up and started exiting the room. "Ya know Kim, you're real sweet. Now matter what people say, you're a classy broad. Do ya want me to get Two Bit back here for ya?"  
  
I shook my head, and Tim left. I buried my face in my hands as tears rolled down my cheeks. No wonder I couldn't get Tim's attention. He thought I was a classy broad, but he likes his girls trashy and skanky, like Cynthia. To Tim, I just wasn't in his league.  
  
I sighed and wiped away my tears. I wasn't going to give up on Tim yet, but I didn't want to spend another moment at Buck's. So I headed home, still wearing Tim's jacket. 


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thanks to all who have been reviewing! I'm going to work my hardest to get up the next chapter, but I need to finish writing it. This chapter is supposed to offer a tiny bit of insight into Kim. I hope it works. As always, enjoy and review!  
  
Somehow, maybe even miraculously, I made my way back home safely. When I looked back on it, I was amazed that I, a pretty, young, and provocatively dressed greaser girl stumbling (literally) home in the middle of the night didn't get jumped, by either greasers or Socs. In my drunk state of mind, I simply didn't comprehend the danger I had put myself in.  
  
When I got to my house, however, I found that I was locked out. I cursed and kicked the half dead rosebush that was next to the door. I had a horrible habit of forgetting my keys at home, and the last time I went out, I used the spare key to let myself in. Problem was, I forgot to put the key back, and it was now conveniently locked inside of the house.  
  
My poor little drunk brain didn't know what to do. I wasn't about to wake up my family, and I sure as hell wasn't going back to Buck's place. I did the only thing that seemed logical: I decided to go and look for a place to stay. Had I been sober, I probably could have formulated a better plan.  
  
So I began wandering the streets. I had nowhere I planned on going, but I had a feeling fate would find a place for me to sleep, or maybe pass out would be a more correct term. As I wandered I began to examine my life. I had a habit of doing this while I was drunk and alone. Usually I got so unhappy, I'd want to go and get more drunk because that was the only way I knew to get rid of the pain.  
  
I first though about Rosemary. I didn't really know why I hated her so much. She could actually be pretty tuff, when she wasn't being all bossy. She just wasn't my mama. If Mom hadn't. I quickly pushed that thought out of my head. It was too sad, too painful. I already had tears in my eyes from that brief thought.  
  
Instead I thought about Becca. She was such a good kid, but she didn't really have any friends. I barely even saw her smile, especially after we lost Mom. Sometimes I would catch her crying while writing in her stupid diary. She was always writing in that thing! I just wanted to know why she was so damn sad all of the time. And quiet, she hardly ever spoke up. I wanted to know why my baby sister didn't talk more.  
  
Soon, I had to push away the thought of Becca too. My mind next came to Tim. I wanted Tim so badly. I wanted Tim to want me, but I couldn't seem to make it happen. I started to think, "What more can."  
  
But I was interrupted by my stumbling (again, literally) into a figure on the street. "Kim?" the voice of the figure said. "What the hell are you doin' here? I thought you were at Buck's."  
  
My head spun. I tried my best to piece together a decent sentence, but I failed miserably. "Ah hell.uh. Dally. I, um.you, hell. Why ain't you at Buck's no more?"  
  
Dally shook his head and laughed. "Wow. You sure are drunk. I s'pose I should walk you home, huh?" "Nuh, uh. I'm locked out."  
  
"Really?" Dally got an evil grin on his face. "Then do you want that we go and, you know, fool around?"  
  
I waved Dally's offer away with my hand. "Nope. I don't want you, I want." I cut myself off. I had almost let my feelings for Tim slip. I tugged on one of my black curls that had fallen in my face. Tim always went for blondes. "Dally, do you think I'd look good blonde?"  
  
Dally was giving me an odd look. "Nah," he finally said. "Besides, it won't make Tim like you any more." I stopped dead in my tracks. Dally chuckled and led me over to a park bench, where I collapsed.  
  
"But, what, I.oh shit." I couldn't comprehend how Dally knew. I hung my head and a tear fell.  
  
"Damn Kim," he explained, "you're as easy to read as a book, not that I've read many. Did you realize that you ignore everyone else when he's around? When you talk to him your face lights up like a fricken light bulb for Christ sakes! And you get all crabby when he's with another broad." I tried to deny it but Dally just shook his head and continued, "I've always known Tim was a dumb ass, but I never knew he was more dumb than ass. He doesn't have clue that you're into him. You're a tuff chick Kim, but Tim likes his girls hard and tough. You just ain't a tough chick. You put on a good act, but you ain't sleazy. Hell, you can drink and sleep with the best of 'em," here Dally raised his eyebrows and gave me a wink. "But you don't slash tires and get into fights for fun. Tim likes to do that stuff and he likes to do that stuff with his girls. You wouldn't like doing that shit."  
  
"I would for Tim!" I tried to arguer, but in my heart I knew that Dally was right. For all that immerse myself in the life of a hood, my heart just wasn't in it. I only acted like a hood because I didn't know how else to act. I wondered how Dally could know me so well. I never shared my feelings with anyone, much less him.  
  
Suddenly my head began to throb and my stomach contracted. "Uh, Dally." I started to say but had to clamp my mouth shut because of the vomit that was rising in my throat. Luckily Dally completely understood and led me over to a tree. He held my hair back while my body tried to expel all of the poisons I had put into it earlier. I threw up three more times.  
  
Dally laughed when I was finally finished. "Damn girl," he said with a smile, "I was expecting a boot to come up with all that booze." I was too tired to reply. My head was simply too heavy for me to hold up anymore, so I leaned it on Dally's shoulder and closed my eyes. A few tears leaked out while I did that.  
  
I heard Dally curse under his breath and say something about "babysitting drunk broads." With a sigh he scooped me up in his arms and proceeded to carry me away.  
  
"Where are we going?" I managed to murmur with my eyes still closed. It felt so nice to be carried away in strong arms. I imagined that they were Tim's.  
  
"I know a place where we can both get some rest. The couch is even pretty comfortable." And that was the last thing I remembered before I passed out. 


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Hey there y'all. Sorry it's taken me a while to update. The play I was in finally finished up, so now I once again have free time on my hands! Hurray!! Anyway.not much happens in this chapter, but I'll try my best to get up the next chapter where (hopefully) more will happen. Enjoy, and as always PLEASE REVIEW. I live for reviews.  
  
I started to wake up the next morning to the sound of a couple male voices. I listened to them murmur and tried to figure out who they were and where I was.  
  
Suddenly I heard a door slam and someone say loudly, "Hot damn do I have a hangover!" I woke up the rest of the way. There was no mistaking Two Bit's voice. The memory of my night flowed back into my brain.  
  
I opened my eyes and I found myself in an unfamiliar living room. Dally was already awake, but he was lying still because I had apparently been using him for a pillow all night long. I groaned as I sat up. My head throbbed, my mouth was bone dry, and my stomach was very uneasy to say the least.  
  
I must have sounded and looked completely miserable because Dally started laughing at me. The harsh sound of his laugh hurt my head even more, so I hugged my head and moaned. This made Dally laugh even harder. His laughter drew Two Bit and the unidentified boys into the room. Two Bit joined in on the laughter when he saw me, and I blushed a deep crimson at the memory of our night.  
  
"What's so funny?" the last to enter the room asked. I looked up and saw a very looking young man. Sodapop Curtis was, next to Tim, the best looking guy I had ever met. I had, for a period of time, made my best efforts to snag Soda, but he wasn't into girls like me. I always thought that it was a damn shame that he was more into "nice" girls than a hard greaser like me. The other guys in the roomer were Ponyboy, and Soda's best friend, Steve Randle. I had made out with Steve once, and we probably would have gone further if his sometimes-girlfriend Evie hadn't caught us and tried to scratch my eyes out.  
  
I realized that I had a history with every guy in the room except for the Curtis brothers (and if it had been my choice, I would have had a history with Soda). I felt cheap and dirty. Again, I wondered why I made the lifestyle choices that I did.  
  
I pulled myself out of my thoughts when I realized that Two Bit was talking to me. "What did Tim want last night?" he wanted to know.  
  
My mind raced. I figured Tim wouldn't want our discussion to leak out and ruin his image. Tim took pride in his tough appearance, as most hoods do. "Uh, well. Do y'all have any aspirin?" I asked, changing the subject. I couldn't think of a story, and besides, my head was throbbing more than ever from my attempt at thinking.  
  
Two Bit tossed me a bottle that he had pulled out of the Curtis' medicine cabinet for himself. I swallowed four pills. "By the way, I grabbed this last night when I left. I hadn't realized that it wasn't mine until I sobered up a bit." He pulled a wad of black fabric from his coat pocket and tossed it to me.  
  
I discovered that it was my shirt from last night. I laughed along with the boys until I saw Ponyboy's ears turn beet red. He was such a nice boy, and I started feeling pretty trashy, "Well, hun, I wouldn't mind finding some of your clothes laying around my place," and Dally replied to him, "I've already had that experience, maybe we should start a club." The guys continued to make jokes about my sexual history, all the while making Ponyboy's ears turn redder and redder.  
  
I wanted to cry, but I refused to allow my feelings to show in such a way. I wanted to go home more than anything, to get out of there. I tried to find a way to get out of there, but failed until I caught Dally's eye. I tried my best to convey my urge to leave, and it must have worked because Dally rose and said, "Well, shit. I'm outta here. Come on Kim, I'll walk ya home." Dally stood up and headed out the front door. Two Bit helped me to my feet and walked me to the door.  
  
"So, maybe I'll see you around," he half said and half asked me.  
  
I sighed. "Two Bit," I said, "about last night. If I hadn't been so fucking drunk, I wouldn't have. you know. I'm sorry."  
  
Two Bit flashed me his famous smile and replied, "It's alright. I understand. If you ever get that drunk again, give me a call and we can finish what we started!" He winked at me, and I had to smile. Two Bit could really make a girl feel good, in the oddest way. I head outside where Dally was waiting rather impatiently. I heard the boys all call goodbyes after me and I could also hear them teasing Pony about his red ears. I smiled and Dally and I headed on our way. 


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Hey there everyone. I realize that it's been a while since I updated. Not too much happens in this chapter, but I'm sort of setting stuff up for more things to happen later.  
  
I would really like to thank everyone for reviewing, especially Molly. Molly, your review was like one that I've only dreamt of. You gave me a true incentive to keep writing, and I'm flattered that you're enjoying my story.  
  
~*~*~*~*~ I didn't actually expect Dally to walk me home, but he did. I thought it was very gentlemanly of him, but I kept that thought to myself. It would only piss Dally off.  
  
When we arrived at my house Dally gave me a wink and said, "I'll see you around. Tell Tim I say hi next time you 'accidentally' run into him." And Dally left. I was a little thankful. I really liked Dally, but there was always so much tension in the air when he was around.  
  
I opened my now unlocked front door and stepped into the kitchen. My dad was finishing up his brunch and reading a newspaper, while Rosemary was cooking. Rosemary looked up from the stove and said, "Oh, there you are. Would you want an omelet?"  
  
My stomach turned at the very idea. "No," I answered and sat at the table with my father. "Just coffee."  
  
Rosemary gave me a suspicious look and ask sharply, "What, are you hung over? Were you drinking?" I gave her the best indignant look I could muster. She didn't, however, look too convinced. "Well don't be drinking," she curtly snapped.  
  
Dad looked up from his paper. "She's right, sweetie," he said to me, "that booze will do bad things to you. Stay clear of it."  
  
I gave a little snort. I couldn't believe my father and stepmother were lecturing me on the evils of drinking when both of them were practically alcoholics. I focused on my coffee while Dad gave me a scrutinizing look. "Whose jacket are you wearing?"  
  
"Huh?" I asked surprised. I expected him to go on with his lecture, not criticize my clothing.  
  
"That's not your jacket, so whose is it?" I kicked myself. Once again I had forgotten that I was still wearing Tim's jacket and no shirt.  
  
"Uh, it's just a friend's coat. He let me wear it because I got cold, and didn't have one of my own."  
  
"Well I suppose you'd get cold not wearing a shirt," Rosemary said. I wondered how Rosemary could tell that underneath the jacket I was topless. She must have known what I was wondering because she said, "Here's a tip for next time Kim. Make sure you zip the coat all the way up before you come home."  
  
I felt like the stupidest person on the face of the planet. I couldn't believe how dumb I had been to only have the jacked be zipped up halfway. Rosemary always had been more observant than my father, especially when it came to getting me into trouble.  
  
"So do I know this 'friend' of yours," Dad asked me with an edge in his voice.  
  
I shook my head. "I don't think so Daddy. But he doesn't live too far from here, so maybe you do."  
  
"Don't you 'Daddy' me. You aren't going to get out of this one. What's his name?"  
  
"Tim. Tim Shepard," I said with a sigh.  
  
"Well," Rosemary cut in, "I'd really like to meet this Tim."  
  
"As would I," Dad agreed. "I'd like to know the guy whose clothes my daughter comes home wearing. Why don't you invite him to dinner tonight."  
  
"But Dad." I was worried. Tim wasn't the 'invite-home-for-dinner' type of guy.  
  
"He will come to dinner or you will be in big trouble young lady," Dad said, this time raising his voice. He was serious; I hardly ever heard him call me young lady. I got up and walked over to the phone. I picked it up, and before I could even realize that I didn't know Tim's phone number, I was encountered with a different problem. There was no dial tone.  
  
I put the phone back on the receiver and said, "Dad, the phone is dead again."  
  
"Again!" he shouted. "Rosemary, didn't you pay the bill!"  
  
"Me?" she screamed back. "What about you? Why the hell didn't you pay it!" The screaming match continued while I left and headed to my room. As I entered the room, I heard a dish break. I shook my head. They fought all the time and it made me sick.  
  
I found Becca on her bed curled up with tears streaming down her face. "what're they fightin' about?" she meekly asked.  
  
"Money. At least that's how it started. Don't cry," I sat down on the bed and awkwardly patter her. I couldn't recall when she had become such a stranger to me. "They aren't bitching about you. They're just miserable people, I guess. You have nothin' to feel bad about."  
  
Becca sat up and wiped her tears away. "I guess you're right."  
  
"You guess I'm right? Don't question your big sis dear. I'm always right." I saw her lip give a twitch and her sniffles stopped. "Now, if you can wait until my stomach settles down and I can shower, I'll take ya out for icecream."  
  
For the first time in a long time I saw my sister's face break into a genuine grin. "Really?" she asked as if I might be lying.  
  
"For real," I said as I took off Tim's coat and threw it on my bed.  
  
Becca gave me an odd look. "Whose jacket is that?"  
  
I laughed. "It's a long story. I'll tell you on our way to drop it off and invite a friend to dinner." 


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: All right guys, I know that this is a pretty common theme here right now, but it's finals time, so I don't imagine that I'll be updating too soon after this. Keep reading and reviewing and I'll keep writing. Enjoy!  
  
I really enjoyed my walk with Becca to the Shepards' and eventually the ice cream parlor. It was the first time I had actually had a conversation with her in a while. She talked about school and even a little bit about a boy she thought was cute. It was great hearing her talk for a change.  
  
We finally encountered a break in the conversation, and she shyly asked me, "Whose jacket is that?'  
  
I looked down at Tim's jacket I was carrying and smiled. "A boy named Tim Shepard." I saw Becca's eyebrows rise a little and her mouth tighten slightly. "You've heard of him?" I asked her.  
  
"Yes," she replied. "I hear he's a hood and a bad guy."  
  
I laughed. "Oh he's a hood alright. He's a regular JD, but he's more than that. He can be very sweet, and funny, not to mention good looking."  
  
Becca gave a slight giggle. "You like him?" she asked.  
  
"Yeah, I do," I replied. "I guess I think he's 'dreamy.'" Both of us laughed at the comment until we arrived at the Shepard residence.  
  
I climbed the shabby porch steps and Becca followed a couple steps behind. Despite my words, I could tell she was still afraid of the Shepards. I guess I couldn't blame her-the Shepards (all of 'em) could be intimidating people.  
  
I knocked on the front door, and what could have been a younger version of Tim answered. "Whadda you want?" He asked rather rudely. "Angela ain't here."  
  
He started to shut the door, but I stopped it. "Curly Shepard, I ain't here to see Angela. I need to talk to Tim."  
  
"That so? Tim's sleeping," Curly replied. "The fucker came home and passed out on our kitchen table this morning."  
  
"Well, I can come back later. You don't hafta wake him up or nothin'."  
  
"Nah. the asshole can wake up. It'll be funny." Curly looked over his shoulder into the house and yelled as loud as he could, "Tim! There's some broad here to see you!" I kicked Curly for calling me "some broad". He knew damn well who I was.  
  
A loud moan and some grumbling emerged from the house. After a few moments Tim appeared behind Curly. He slapped Curly on the back of the head. "Damn kid. Get outta here." Curly disappeared back into the house while Tim groggily rubbed his eyes. He looked, to put it lightly, worse for wear. When he cleared his eyes, he looked at me, smiled and said, "Hey Kim. Who's your shadow?"  
  
"Huh?" I then realized he was referring to Becca, who was still standing a couple of feet behind me. I looked back at her and saw her shyly staring at her feet. "Oh, that's Becca. She's my baby sister."  
  
"Yeah, I woulda guessed that. Ya'll look alike." I had never really thought about it, but Becca and I did look an awful lot alike. The main difference was the fact that she had brown eyes and I had blue eyes.  
  
"Yeah, well I could say the same thing about you and Curly," I said coolly, trying to mask the butterflies in my stomach he was causing.  
  
"Nah," Tim said with a smile. "I'm way better lookin' than that little hood. So, what the hell are ya'll doin' here at this ungodly early hour?"  
  
"Early?" I asked. "Tim, it's two o'clock."  
  
"Shit. you know what time I crashed last night, or I guess, this morning?"  
  
"Sorry to wake you," I apologized. "I was just returning your coat." I handed it to him and he accepted it with a grin. My heart turned in my chest at the sight of his smile. It was wide and genuine and made him look handsome, despite the hangover.  
  
The next part was trickier. I didn't know how to invite Tim Shepard to dinner with my family. I decided to just blurt it out, and that's exactly what I did. "Would you like to come to dinner with my family tonight?"  
  
Tim threw back his head and roared in laughter. Becca looked up startled and I turned what must have been three shades of red.  
  
"Dinner," he replied when his laughter started to die down. "Nah, I don't think so." I was pretty crushed, not to mention worried about the trouble I'd be in if Tim refused. Dad was very serious about meeting Tim; he had made that perfectly clear.  
  
"Tim," I appealed to him, "please! You gotta do this for me! My parents had a little problem with me coming home wearing only your coat and no shirt. I guess they got the wrong idea about you and me. Now they, especially my father, are determined to meet you. If you don't show, the I'm in deep shit."  
  
"Damn it Kim," Tim said. "Dinner with your parents? Hell, I don't even eat dinner with my own parents."  
  
"Daddy will be mad if you don't," Becca quietly said. "Daddy's no fun when he's mad. He's scary." Both Tim and I looked at my sister with astonished looks. I was surprised with both the fact that she spoke up with Tim around, and that she was afraid of our Dad. I had no clue, but then again, I hadn't ever really paid attention before. I glanced at Tim and I was further surprised to see him looking at Becca with a genuinely caring and concerned look. That look however was immediately replaced with his regular tough, apathetic look. "I can't come to dinner," he said. "I've got."  
  
He was cut off by a female voice yelling from inside, "Timothy Wilfred Shepard! Get in here and explain this mess!"  
  
I roared in laughter and Becca giggled. "Wilfred? Your middle name is Wilfred?" I choked out in between laughs. This time Tim turned three different shades of red. If I hadn't found it so funny, I would have been more astonished at Tim Shepard, the tough hood, being embarrassed and blushing.  
  
Tim scratched the back of his neck and stayed flushed. "Shit, don't everyone have an embarrassing middle name?"  
  
"No," I replied shortly. Then an idea dawned on me. "Look Tim," I said. "If you don't want me letting it.er. slip what your middle name is around the area, you might want to reconsider and come to dinner."  
  
"That's blackmail!"  
  
"It sure is," I said confidently. I knew Tim would come just to save his reputation.  
  
"Fine. What time should I come?" he asked, finally cracking.  
  
"Six o'clock."  
  
"Timothy!" the voice screamed again.  
  
"Yah ma! I heard ya!" he called back. To me and Becca he said, "I'll see you girls at six then. Bye."  
  
I gave one last giggle. "All right. Wilfred." Tim gave me a rude gesture before he turned and entered his. "Come on," I said to Becca. "Let's go get our ice cream." 


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Whew, this chapter took me longer than I anticipated. All my other chapters just flowed naturally out of my pen, but this one took quite a bit of effort on my part. I think that means I'm starting to lose some motivation on this story so please review and keep giving me motivation. I have an idea where I want the story to go, but I really want to know that people are reading it and know if I'm doing an okay job. What can I say: I have low self-esteem. Well, enjoy the chapter.  
  
I was amazed at the transformation my house went through for dinner. All the clutter was cleared away and the kitchen floor was mopped. Dad and Rosemary looked like Ozzie and Harriet as opposed to their normal dysfunctional selves. Dad had even put on a tie and Rosemary wore a string of (I assume) fake pearls with her dress. Becca dressed up in her best skirt, yellow cardigan, and patent leather Mary Janes.  
  
Unlike the rest of my family, I didn't know what to wear. On one hand I didn't want to look too sexy; it was after all a family dinner, yet I still wanted to be attractive for Tim. I decided to wear my tight jeans and a fairly respectable, but still semi low cut sweater. I loved the blue color of the sweater because it really made my eyes stand out.  
  
At precisely 6:00 the table was set and my parents were waiting for Tim. 6:15 came around and Tim still didn't show. I was getting worried as my father was getting more and more upset with each passing moment.  
  
Finally at 6:27 a knock sounded on the door. I ran and answered. Sure enough, Tim was standing there. I noticed that he had put on a clean black tee shirt and was freshly shaved. I was taken aback by how good-looking he was. I pulled him in the house and to my horror, I could smell some booze on him. Now, I was never a deeply religious person, but I made a quick, silent prayer to whoever was listening for good behavior on Tim's part. I brought Tim into the living room where the rest of the family was waiting. "Everyone," I announced, "This is Tim. Tim, this is my father, my stepmother Rosemary, and you've already met Becca."  
  
Tim gave an awkward, small wave and said, "Hello." Rosemary nodded curtly and said " Pleased to meet you."  
  
Dad, however, didn't even acknowledge Tim's presence. Instead he gave me a rude glare and asked coldly, "Can we eat now?" He rudely brushed passed Tim as he exited the living room; Rosemary and Becca followed.  
  
I looked at Tim, but I couldn't read the expression on his face. "I'm sorry they were so rude," I apologized. I didn't want Tim to get angry because then I really wouldn't know how he was going to react.  
  
Tim's expression on his face didn't change and he shrugged his shoulders. "Shit, I don't care. I guess I'd be pissed too if I had to wait for dinner. So whadda we havin'?" he asked.  
  
I was about to answer, "Meatloaf," when he took a swig out of a flask that he pulled out of his belt. "Tim!" I practically yelled. "What are you doin'? Do you know how much trouble I'm gonna be in if you get caught drinking?"  
  
"Sorry Kim. I just don't think I can make it through this meal sober. But if you don't want me to drink anymore I won't. Okay?" I nodded and he gave me a light punch on the shoulder. He laughed and followed me into the kitchen where my family was already seated, eating.  
  
After a few silent minutes of eating, Dad said, "So, I assume you're a senior, like Kim. What are your plans for after high school?"  
  
Tim replied to my father while still chewing his food. I saw the corners of Rosemary's mouth turn down; she put a lot of stock into a person's table manners. "Actually sir," Tim said, "I'm not in school anymore."  
  
"Oh really?" my Dad acted surprised. He knew full well that Tim wasn't in school, I could tell by the angle of his questioning. "What year did you graduate?"  
  
Tim shifted slightly in his seat. "I never actually graduated. I guess you could say I dropped out."  
  
Dad got a sort of pleased look on his face, and I gave him a look, hoping he'd give the hint to lay off of the subject. My dad however ignored me and started to rip into Tim. "I just want to make sure I'm hearing this correctly. You're a quitter."  
  
Tim started to turn red and get angry. "No. School just wasn't for me. I decided I'd be better off in the work force making my own way and helping support my mother."  
  
"Oh. I apologize." Dad said and I gave a sigh of relief, that is, until Dad began questioning Tim just a moment later. "I wasn't aware that you were a working man, with a career. What kind of work are you in?"  
  
Tim's eyes narrowed even further. Dad's words had a bite to them and Tim had a short fuse. I could see that pretty soon fireworks would really fly, but I felt powerless to stop it. Rosemary must have felt the same way too because she was watching the entire ordeal and not doing anything. "I am currently.in between jobs right now." I could tell Tim struggled to say it.  
  
Dad got a look of grim satisfaction on his face. "I see. You're unemployed. So much for supporting yourself and your mother. You're a bum."  
  
Tim stood up and loudly stated, "I ain't no bum, and you better not call me that again. I get by, and that's all I need to do. So quit givin' me the third degree." I pulled Tim down and tried to soothe him, but he resisted my efforts. His blood was really boiling, but so was my father's.  
  
My dad finally got to his point. "So if you don't have a job, and you make enough just to get by, then how do you plan on supporting my daughter?"  
  
Tim finally blew. "Jesus Christ!" he yelled. "I don't got to support Kim because I ain't fucking her. I don't know who she's fuckin' but it sure as hell ain't me! Now lay off!" After this short little rant, Tim stormed out of the house.  
  
My family sat there in silence for a few moments until Dad stood up, gave me an evil look and said in a deathly calm voice, "I never want to see that boy ever again. Understood?"  
  
I nodded. My father only used such a calm voice when he was really, really pissed off. Becca started crying quietly and Rosemary quickly left the table. I sighed and walked out the door. Becca followed, tears still running down her face.  
  
I sat down on the curb and buried my face in my knees. Everything had gone so wrong. Becca sat quietly beside me and patted my back. At that moment I felt more love for her than ever before. In her own little way, she was trying to comfort me. I probably should have hugged her or thanked her, but I was too busy wallowing in my own self-pity to do such an act.  
  
We sat there for a while. Periodically Becca would start crying again, but I refused to shed a single tear. Tim liked tough girls, and tough girls don't cry. I wish I could have allowed myself to cry; I would have felt much better. Instead I kept it in and resolved to not let this incident hinder my pursuit of Tim. 


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Oh wow. This chapter gave me so many problems. I must have started it a at least five different times trying to get it right. I'm still not completely happy with it, but I thought I'd get it posted finally. I hope it's still enjoyable for everyone. Let me know in a review. I'd really, really appreciate it.  
  
I'd like to thank everyone for reviewing. You're all so awesome. I can honestly say that I wouldn't have gotten this far in this story without you all. It's so cold outside and in my room that my hands have gone numb and it's rather difficult to type; nevertheless, I persevere on for all my darling reviewers!  
  
Just one more quick note for the anonymous reviewer who said that Ozzie and Harriet weren't know of in the sixties. they absolutely were well known. The show "Ozzie and Harriet" ran from 1952 to (I believe) 1964. I considered comparing the family to the Cleavers, but I was always more a Ricky Nelson fan than a Wally fan.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ For the first time in years, school was a welcome release from the weekend. The mood at home was tense after the incident at dinner. Dad blew up at Rosemary twice on Sunday because she burnt his toast and later on threw out the paper before he was done reading it. I stayed completely clear of my father, and was ready to welcome any excuse to leave the house, even it was school.  
  
Even thought I had been looking forward to school, I could barely get myself out of bed to get ready. Eventually I got up and showered. When I finally go down showering, Becca was dressed and had headed to the kitchen for breakfast.  
  
I put on the outfit I had picked out the night before (a black top and grey skirt) and did my makeup and hair. Forty-five minutes later I had effectively achieved the "grease chick" look I was going for. I grabbed my books and headed out of my room.  
  
As I passed through the kitchen, Becca barely looked up from her oatmeal. Dad continued to focus on his coffee. I forced a strained smile and said, "Bye Daddy. Comin' Becca?"  
  
Dad set his coffee down. "Becca's sick. She's not going to school today, so you need to come straight home from school today so she won't be home alone."  
  
I started protesting. My after school social life was very important to. Sometimes that's when I got some of my best flirting done. "Daddy! Why?" I whined. "You and Rosemary gotta work and she'll be home alone all day anyway."  
  
Dad scowled. He didn't like that I was arguing with him. "I'm going in late, at noon. You know today is Rosemary's long. She works at the diner until noon, and doesn't work at the factory until two. She'll be home with Becca, and you'll be home at two-thirty. Becca will only be home a half hour that way."  
  
"Why can't she stay home alone?" I whined.  
  
"Because it's not safe. Now stop arguing. Be home at two-thirty. That's final." Dad left the room in a huff. I cursed and kicked our kitchen table. Becca let out a slight whimper and as tears started flowing, she ran out of the room.  
  
Still fuming, I left and headed on my way to school. I didn't understand why my dad was so protective of Becca. When I was eleven, he didn't give a damn what I did or if I was home alone. He still didn't care about me that way. I supposed it was because Becca was the baby and was still so innocent yet. I just hated being obligated my sister, when I knew she could handle being home alone.  
  
I was still angry when I arrived at school, and I only go more so after I reached my locker. There I found a socy-looking blonde girl attempting to break into my locker.  
  
I stormed over and pushed her away from my locker. "What do you think you're doin'?" I demanded.  
  
The girl's eyes widened and she stammered, "I'm sorry. I was just trying to get into my locker, but it won't open. I'm new here, and."  
  
"I don't care what you are," I spat out angrily. "Maybe it won't open 'cause this is my locker, not yours! Now get the hell away from me!" I was practically shouting by the time I was through. It soc-girl walked away quickly, her blonde ponytail bobbing as she left.  
  
I entered my combination into my locker, opened it and threw my books in. I slammed it shut and immediately found myself face to face with Angela Shepard.  
  
"Goddamn, you sure got rid of that soc awful quick," She commended me with a smile on her face.  
  
I returned the grin. "Well, ya know, scaring soc-girls is one of my favorite activities. So," I said changing the topic as Angela and I started Walking down the hall towards the bathroom. "What'd you do this weekend?"  
  
"Nothin'. I swear, there ain't no guys left anymore. They're all in the slammer or somethin'. I got a little drunk and that's all. I didn't even make out with anyone. But you," she said as we arrived at the girls' restroom. "I hear you got lucky." She headed into the bathroom and I followed.  
  
"Who'd you hear that from?" I asked. Angela peered into a mirror as I sat down on the counter in between sinks. Before Angela could answer, two other girls entered the bathroom. I casually said hello to them as on, Lisa, headed into a stall and the other, Annette, joined me on the counter.  
  
Lisa and Annette were two other grease-chicks and the bathroom we were currently in was a common hangout for greasers. "What's this I hear about you and Two Bit Matthews?" Annette asked me. Angela looked up from the mirror in surprise and asked "Two Bit?"  
  
I was a bit surprised myself. Angel had made it seem like she had heard all about me and Two Bit. "Yeah, sorta. I thought you heard about that already," I said to Angela.  
  
"Hell no," she replied. "Curly said you and Tim fucked."  
  
I blushed what must have been a bright red. "Me and Tim? Naw," I attempted to casually brush it off. "Why'd he say that?"  
  
"He said you brought back some of Tim's clothes." "I didn't have sex with your brother," I said.  
  
"Not that you wouldn't mind," Lisa injected as she flushed the toilette and exited the stall. "Rumor is you're chasin' Tim."  
  
I felt my face grow even more red, but this time I flushed because of anger, not embarrassment. "Who said that? And why're they talking trash about me?"  
  
"So it isn't true?" Lisa asked while offering me a cigarette. Smoking was definitely not allowed in school, and I never really smoked much. But then I thought about all the girls Tim had been with, and all of them that I could think of smoked.  
  
I accepted the cigarette and lit it with the lighter she handed me. "No," I answered her question after I inhaled. "I ain't chasing Tim. We're just pals, that's all." I inhaled again and coughed a little bit. I really didn't like smoking at all, but it would toughen up my image and make me more Tim's type. Besides, it wasn't THAT disgusting.  
  
"Good. I'm glad you and Tim ain't a item or nothin'," Angela said after taking a puff from her own cigarette.  
  
"Why?" I asked slightly offended.  
  
"I dunno. I guess just 'cause you ain't really his type. You just ain't tough enough for my brother."  
  
My face clouded over with anger. "What the hell are you talking about? I'm tough."  
  
Angela laughed. "No you ain't," she replied. "Hell, if you got jumped, you'd probably bawl like a little baby."  
  
My vision was starting to get blurry from my anger. I jumped down from the counter and gave Angela a push. "I'm just as tough as you or any other chick out there. Say that I'm not again, and I'll kick your ass. You stay clear of me from now on. Understand?" I put out my cigarette on the counter where I had been sitting and stormed out.  
  
As I left I heard Lisa say, "Holy shit," Annette mutter, "What's her problem," and Angela curse, "Fucking bitch."  
  
I stomped through the empty halls towards my class. On top of everything else I was going to be tardy. The bell must have rang while I was shouting at Angela. I didn't really know why I got so angry with Angela. She was right. I was tough, but I hated having her judge me. I knew that all the soc's judged me, but it hurt even more to be judged by my own kind.  
  
I didn't get very far down the hall when a voice behind me brought me to a dead halt. "Miss Roberts. Aren't you a bit late for class?" Vice Principal Brewer asked me.  
  
I turned around and gave him my very best innocent face. "Yessir," I replied. "That's why I was hurrying sir."  
  
And why are you late?" he asked, clearly not buying into my innocent look. "Were you smoking in the bathroom?"  
  
"Oh no sir," I replied too m hastily. A questioning eyebrow of his arose, and I rushed to explain. "I don't smoke sir. It's a dirty, nasty, disgusting habit."  
  
"I'm glad you feel that way. So why then are you tardy?"  
  
"Well sir," I faked a blush. "I.uh. I was having feminine problems."  
  
"I see," he said in a awkward voice. "Well go on to class then. I can excuse that." I turned and was about to leave when he stopped me once again. "Oh, Miss Roberts? Isn't that skirt a bit short?"  
  
"I don't think so sir. It was long enough last week," I lied. I knew the skirt was too short for the school's dress code, but in the past I had always made sure not get caught wearing it.  
  
Mr. Brewer nodded and for a split second I thought I was going to get away with it, when he crushed my hopes by saying, "Nonetheless, I need to check and make sure. Please kneel down."  
  
I sighed slightly and knelt. Sure enough, the hemline of the skirt was an inch too short of grazing the floor, and was therefore an inch too short for me to be wearing to school. "As I suspected," he said with a hint of triumph in his voice. "An hour of detention after school today. Now hurry and get to class."  
  
I hustled to my English class and as I got to the door, I slapped myself on the forehead. I was supposed to go straight home. I groaned and entered the classroom, dreading how angry my father was going to be at me once again. 


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Oh wow. This was way too difficult to write. I don't really like this chapter at all, and I hope it doesn't disappoint you wonder readers too much. This is really only a filler chapter. I have some pretty good ideas for the next chapter (at least I think so) and I'll do my best to get it up soon. Of course, reviews give me much more motivation to update quickly, and I'm always sad if I don't get reviews. I like to know how I'm doing on this story.  
  
I hope you enjoy!  
  
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Detention that day was hell. Previous times when I had been assigned detention, it wasn't too bad. There were always some other greasers to joke with and cause even more trouble with. Every other time I had been in detention, Two Bit was present, and he definitely made it fun. Even while being punished, he threw paper airplanes and spitballs and played pranks on whoever was in charge of us delinquents.  
  
That particular day, however, I was alone in detention with only one other person. Unfortunately it was Angela. I don't know what she did to get stuck there with me, but I do know that she still seemed upset about our little fall-out earlier that morning. I swear if looks could kill, I'd have died that day in detention.  
  
After the very silent, awkward hour of detention was over, Angela quickly left the room. I wasn't in a huge rush to get home. I was already an hour late, so being even later wouldn't be a big deal. Either way, my Dad was going to kill me.  
  
I left through the school's back doors and was immediately encountered with Angela standing there smoking a cigarette. She surveyed me as she inhaled, and I did my best to stare straight ahead and walk by. She grabbed my arm to stop me.  
  
"So," she said exhaling, "You really got a thing for my brother or what?" I looked at Angela and tried to read her face. Unfortunately, unless she was boiling mad, Angela was a difficult person to read and figure out how she's feeling.  
  
I shrugged my shoulders. "Well, yeah," I finally answered her. "Sorry if you don't like it. I just can't help it."  
  
Angela's expression didn't change for a few moments. I leaned against the school and waited for her response. Suddenly she let out a laugh, turned to me and grinned. "Shit Kim, I guess it's kinda cute. Finally I won't have to compete with you for a guy."  
  
I was shocked. "I didn't know we were competing," I replied honestly. I never would have thought that I could ever be competition for Angela. She was tough and everything a grease chick should be. In a way I would like to be more like Angela, especially since Tim seemed to go for her type of girl.  
  
"You're the girl all the guys want Kim," Angela said. She took one last drag of her cigarette and flicked it away. She and I started walking as she continued, "Sometimes they're so damn busy chasing after you that they forget about any other chicks. It's annoying."  
  
I had a difficult time believing her, but nonetheless, I was flattered. I knew that Angela was in an odd way complimenting me and giving her blessing on the Tim situation. It was a relief. Being friends with Angela made it difficult to want Tim. I mean, hardly any girl would want their brother to date a friend. At that point I had slow my thoughts down. Tim and I were still a long way from dating. He didn't see me that way yet.  
  
"Hell, it's pretty funny," Angela broke into my thoughts. "All the talk is that you've got it bad for Dallas Winston."  
  
I stopped walking. "Dally?" I asked surprised. "Why do you say that?" I didn't understand. It was true that Dally and I had a night or two (or three) together, but it was never anything close to a relationship. Dally had been with a ton a of girls and I had been with quite a few guys too. I couldn't think of anything I had done to make people think I was into Dally.  
  
"You two have this bond or something. And he gets so mad if someone is hitting on you. Everyone figures you two are a couple," she said while we resumed walking. "It's common knowledge that you're Dally's girl."  
  
I scowled. I hated how rumors flew around our neighborhood. Then another thought came to me. "Angela," I sharply said, "it's not gonna become common knowledge that I'm chasin' Tim. Is it?"  
  
"Nah. I won't say a word. But maybe word will still get around. Don't worry though. Tim don't pay no attention to shit like that. He don't listen to talk on the street."  
  
I nodded and hoped she was right. We continued talking. It was a relief to be on good terms with Angela again. Even though we weren't best friends, she was about as close to one as I ever got. Besides, Angela could be the worst enemy to have in the world. I had seen first hand the evil things she could do to people she didn't like.  
  
After another block, Angela said goodbye. She had spotted a particularly shady looking hoodlum in an alleyway, and she wanted to see what he was up to. I continued walking, and two blocks later I found myself at the Shepards' house. In the driveway, Tim was working underneath the hood of his car.  
  
I hesitated. I wasn't sure if I wanted to stop and talk to Tim. The last time I had seen Tim was when he and my father were screaming at each other. I thought it might be awkward.  
  
Just as I decided to get home, hopefully still before Dad and Rosemary, Dally emerged from the Shepards' garage and caught sight of me. "Hey Kim," he called, "get over here!"  
  
Tim looked up from under the hood of his car, saw me, and smiled. That decided it. I couldn't walk away from his smiling face. "How's it goin'?" he asked.  
  
I would have been content to just sit there and stare at him all day, but I noticed Dally smiling mischievously at me. Dally knew about my crush on Tim and I could tell he was getting a kick out of watching me swoon over Tim. I decided to play it cool. "I just got outta detention," I answered Tim.  
  
Tim and Dally both laughed a little. "Being a trouble maker, huh?" Dally poked fun at me.  
  
I decided to play along. "Yeah. You know me, I'm just a regular old hood." Tim laughed really hard at my comment. I wasn't sure if I should be pleased that I made him laugh, or offended. I decided to be pleased and chose to laugh along with him.  
  
"Well hood," Tim said, "you wanna beer?"  
  
I shook my head. "I gotta get home," I reluctantly said. "I'm dead meat already. I was supposed to be home way over an hour ago and Dad is gonna kill me."  
  
Dally smiled and asked, "In trouble at home too? You are turnin' into a hood." Tim cracked a grin, nodded and told me, "If your asshole of a Dad gives you shit, just come talk to me. I'll straighten him out."  
  
I blushed. Coming from these two, being called a hood was a compliment, and even more, Tim as much offered to protect me! I said goodbye and turned to go home. I quickly walked home, elated with my last encounter with Tim. 


	12. Chapter 12

When I finally made it home, I found the house silent. I breathed a sigh of relief. The silence meant that neither my father nor Rosemary were home yet, and that meant all I had to do was convince Becca not to rat me out for being late.  
  
I flipped on the kitchen light and called, "Becca! I'm sorry I'm late." I began searching the house for her. I expected to find her napping on the couch; we usually would do that whenever we were sick. To my surprise, she wasn't on the couch, or even in the living room.  
  
I made my way back to our room. "Becca are you sleeping?" I asked as I pushed the door open. Once again I was surprised to not find Becca. Her diary lay on her bed which she had made up perfectly. In fact, she had cleaned our entire bedroom, with the exception of my unmade bed. I shook my head. The girl was sick all day, and yet she bothered to clean. I didn't understand her. When I would be sick, I would stay in bed all day and do nothing.  
  
I finally found a trace of Becca as I headed back to the kitchen. The bathroom door was shut and I saw the light was on from under the door. "Becca," I said loudly to the bathroom door, "I'm gonna start something for dinner. Do you want anything?" I waited and received only silence. I figured the silence meant that she was angry with me for deserting her this afternoon. "Look, I'm sorry I'm late. But I got detention. What could I do? I'd really like it if you didn't tell Dad," I attempted to explain and win her over.  
  
I went back to the kitchen and opened the fridge. Becca wouldn't stay mad long. She was too sweet. I rummaged through the refrigerator, but was unable to find anything to turn into a decent meal. There was some wilted lettuce, some moldy cheese, a couple eggs, and several bottles of beer.  
  
Groaning, I shut the fridge. "Becca, what should I make?" I yelled in the direction of the bathroom. I was starting to get angry because of her anger. I stormed over to the bathroom and knocked. "Open the door and talk to me!" The door didn't open and I received nothing but silence from the other side.  
  
I narrowed my eyes. "That's it, I'm coming in," I warned her just in case she was naked or something. I turned the knob and entered the room.  
  
Words can hardly describe the waves of horror that washed over me as I entered the bathroom. My knees buckled and I had to grab the door to support me. I couldn't breathe and the world was starting to go dark.

I allowed my knees to buckle and I collapsed on the floor in a heap.  My baby sister lay on the floor before me surrounded by a puddle of blood.  "Becca," I tentatively whispered crawling towards her. I didn't care that I was crawling through blood; I was concerned only with the welfare of my sister. "Becca," croaked out again, "are you okay?"

Up close the sight was even more horrendous. Her skin was deathly pale and her lips were tinted an eerie blue color. Her brown eyes stared lifelessly at the ceiling and there was a bullet hole at the base of her neck.  I felt tears flowing down my face, but I didn't care. I clutched at her body, giving her one last hug.  My sister was dead; somebody had shot and killed her.

I released Becca, and began to panic.  I wasn't sure what to do. Sobs shook my body as I tried my hardest to think. I forced myself to stand up. Ignoring the blood that was all over my knees and hands I ran to the telephone. I needed to call the police, an ambulance, my father, anybody.  I just didn't know how to deal with this on my own.

I picked up the phone, but there was no dial tone. "FUCK!" I yelled, "Why the hell can't they ever pay the goddamn bills?" I had never felt such emotions stream through me as I did at the moment. I was frightened, angry, panicked, horrified, and traumatized all at once. I grabbed a glass of water that was sitting half-full next to the phone and as hard as I could, I threw it against the wall. 

I don't know why I did that. Perhaps I was hoping the loud crash of shattering glass would wake me up from what I hoped was a horrible nightmare, or maybe I just had no other way of venting all the emotions I was feeling. I stared around me, knowing I had to take some sort of action. So I did the only thing I could think off: I ran.

I wasn't aware of where I was running; I was merely running.  As I ran, horrible thoughts ran through my head. All I could think was that I had killed my sister, that I had dressed like a tramp, and because of that, I wasn't there to protect her. I may as well have pulled the trigger myself. 

As this realization hit me, I couldn't run any more. I just stopped dead in my tracks and collapsed in the middle of the street.  I didn't cry as I sat there in the middle of the road.  I just sat there silently in shock, covered in my sister's blood.  I couldn't function anymore, so I sat.

I have no idea how long I sat there in the street. All I know is I would probably would have sat there for an indefinite amount of time, if somebody hadn't come along. "Kim?" Two Bit's voice called from behind me. "What the hell are you doing?"

I slowly arose to my feet and turned around.  Two Bit's face quickly morphed from his usual lopsided grin to a horrified expression I had never seen on his face before. "Jesus Christ!" he exclaimed, "Is—is that blood?"

I looked down at myself, and I understood Two Bit's horrified face. I looked as if I had, well, like I had killed somebody. I looked up at Two Bit with tears in my eyes. "Two Bit," I croaked out. "I need help." My whole body was shaking, and I'm sure I would have collapsed if Two Bit hadn't stepped forward and supported my body with a hug.  I buried my face in his chest, but still I couldn't let the sobs take over.

**A/N: I have a few excuses to offer. All I can say is I blame Harry Potter, lightening striking the house twice, a busy semester, and the death of a close friend for my lack of updates. But please review and I solemnly swear I will update much, much quicker.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Well folks, here's an update. I imagine that the end is near in this fic. I have the rest of the story outlined and the epilogue written, so these next couple chapters should be somewhat easier to write. Please review and I should have another update before too incredibly long—probably within a week or two.**

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I pulled away from Two Bit suddenly.  It wasn't right. Two Bit wasn't supposed to be the one holding me—comforting me. It was supposed to be Tim.  I swallowed, looked up at Two Bit and said, "I need a phone. Somebody shot my sister."

I was able to read Two Bit's expression easily.  It was one of fear, concern, and most of all, shock. "Oh shit," he said. "Come on." And he started walking. I didn't know where he was heading, but I didn't care.  Someone was there to help me. Lord knows I wasn't tough enough to help myself.  

We quickly walked in silence for a couple minutes.  I was so relieved I had found somebody to help.  By this time I was completely numb.  It was as if I had stepped out of my body and was watching this entire episode from far away.  

Two Bit led me to the local DX. Somehow I managed to make the connection in my head that this was where Two Bit and his gang hung out a lot.  He ushered me in and called out, "Steve! I need to use the phone."

Steve came in from the back, saying, "Jesus Two Bit. What the hell for? Can't you…" he cut himself off when he caught sight of me.  His eyes widened as he took in the bloody mess that was my clothes and silently took the phone from beneath the counter and set it on top.  

I picked up the phone, but my hands were too shaky to dial.  Two Bit took the phone from me, and dialed.  As Two Bit quickly and quietly talked into the phone, I plopped down on a stool by the counter. There were quite a few customers in the store; each of which was staring at me.  I dumbly stared right back at them until Two Bit said to me, "The police are already there. I guess your dad came home and called them.  A squad car is going to come by and pick you up.  They need to question you and all that shit. You okay?" He asked.

I nodded my head and attempted a shaky smile.  "Thanks," I finally spoke.  Two Bit gave me a much smaller version of his famous smile.  I hated to see him so serious—he didn't seem like Two Bit without his smile.

"You wanna Pepsi or anything?" Steve asked

I shook my head. "Nah. I think I'll just use the bathroom." I got up and headed to the bathroom, not caring that people were continuing to stare at me.  I entered the bathroom, shut the door, and immediately turned to the mirror. "Oh fuck me," I couldn't help but exclaim at my appearance.  My eye-makeup was running all down my cheeks, my hair was all frizzled and messy, and I was covered in blood.  I washed my face and all the blood off of my hands. My clothes would be stained forever, but I didn't care.  Clothes just seemed like such a superficial concern. The more I thought about it, I couldn't believe I had been concerned about my appearance at all.  I felt like a huge, shallow, superficial whore, and all I wanted was my sister to be alive.

I sat down on the toilet, buried my face in my hands, and I wept.  This time I didn't make any attempts to quiet my sobs or to dry my eyes.  I allowed myself to cry like I hadn't in a long, long time. 

I cried until a knock came at the door, and Two Bit's voice announced that the police were here for me.  I took one last shuttering sigh, wiped my tears away and exited the bathroom

A tall officer was waiting for me. He smiled at me and introduced himself, though I don't remember his name. I actually smiled back.  It was the first time I can remember that I was happy to see the police.  Growing up where I did, and being the trouble maker that I was, seeing the cops was generally considered a bad thing.  He gently ushered me out of the DX.  I heard Steve and Two Bit say goodbye and good luck.  I shook my head with a small smile. Greasers weren't all bad; those boys each had a heart of gold, and odd as it sounds, I felt privileged that they had shown me their kindness. Greasers did, after all, stick together, and could be the best friends a person could ever have.

The officer held open the door for the backseat of his squad car. Having never been in a cop car before I sat down, feeling like a criminal.  Then again, I had pretty much just killed my sister, so I sat in the back of the car, feeling like a murderer.  The nice officer tried to make some small talk, but I ignored him.  Instead I sat silently, wallowing in my thoughts and emotions while he drove to the station.

Upon arrival, I was quickly shown to an office, where I was told to wait for Sergeant Millward.  While I waited, I heard snippets of conversations—presumably about Becca and what happened.  I heard something about a cut screen in my parent's room, missing jewelry, and a possible rape. I was horrified, and yet I wanted to hear more; however, the entrance of a large man with a mustache squashed any chance I had of hearing more.  "You Kimberly Roberts?" He asked in his gruff voice, though I could tell that he was trying to be gentle. I nodded. "I'm Sergeant Millward. I'm handling your sister's case.  I need to ask you a few questions."

Before he could ask me anything, I fired a question at him. "Was my sister raped?" 

Sgt. Millward looked at me in surprise. "We don't know. We won't know until an autopsy has been performed.  Do you mind if I ask you some question, and then you can ask me anything afterwards?"  I nodded, and he proceeded to ask me what he assured me were "routine" questions.  I answered as truthfully as I could, and before too long, Sergeant Millward was thanking me for my cooperation and that I couldn't go back to the house because it was a crime scene, so my father would be on his way to pick me up.

I exited his office and sat down on couch in the lobby of the station.  There was so much going on, I was able to occupy myself by just observing others.  The last thing I wanted to do was to think about what a horrible day it had been.  I lied down and closed my eyes.

I must have dozed off because when I next opened my eyes, it was three hours later and it had grown dark outside.  I groaned as I sat up.  My father was apparently was _not going to pick me up.  I scratched the back of my head as I contemplated what I was going to do next.  The Sergeant had already informed me that I couldn't go home, and I had no idea where my Dad and Rosemary were staying. I suppose it was my greaser nature, but the only thing I was sure about was that I didn't want to spend one more minute in that police station. _

I got up and exited the station without another look around.  I had no idea where I was going to spend the night, but I didn't care.  I just pretended that it was just like any other night I had gotten locked out of the house.  I had always managed to survive in the past, and I was sure I would this time too.

I entered the dark night and quickly started walking in the direction of my neighborhood.  I got no more than thirty feet away when I heard an all too familiar voice yell, "Yeah, well maybe next time you could actually have some evidence before you haul me in here for questioning, huh? Fucking cops!" Somehow, even with all it had been through, my heart found the strength to flutter at the sound of the voice.

Sure enough, when I turned around I saw the love of my life, tough-as-nails Tim Shepard standing beneath the street light of the Police Station, lighting up a cigarette. "Tim?" I called out. He sharply looked up and scanned around to see who was calling out his name.

I realized like a dummy that I was in the dark and of course he couldn't see me. I stepped into the light, and as he recognized me, his face broke into a large grin.  Making Tim smile was definitely one of the few bright spots of that dark day. "Damn Kim, it's just you," he said while beginning to walk towards me. "I thought maybe you were my mom.  What the hell are you doing down here by the station? You aren't in trouble again, are you?"

"Nah," I replied. "I—my, well, see… why are you here?" I decided to change the topic. I just didn't feel the need to talk about my sister right then, and besides, I actually was curious as to why Tim had been at the station.

"Shit, those fuckin' cops. Every time something' goes wrong, they haul me in for questioning. You know, I'm one of their usual suspects. Course, most of the time, I actually have somethin' to do with whatever they say I done," he said with a proud smirk. "But this time—goddamn, they think I shot some girl. Fuck me, am I glad I got an alibi, otherwise I bet I'd be up shit creek."

I looked at Tim with wide eyes and asked, "Who do they think you shot?" I already knew the answer, but for some reason I wanted to know if Tim knew.

"I dunno. They didn't say.  Lucky for me, and Dally, we were in plain sight all afternoon working on my car. Lot's of people saw us. I'm sure Dally was one of their suspects as well. Why'd ya wanna know?"

I looked into his eyes and then quickly turned away. "My sister was shot and killed today. While I was in detention," I said in a monotone voice.  I just couldn't allow myself to show weak emotion in front of Tim.

"Damn Kim! I'm sorry." Tim apologized, and all of a sudden he did something that surprised me. He threw away his cigarette and pulled me into a tight hug. I hugged him back and buried my face into his chest.  For some reason, even though my entire life had just fallen apart, everything felt so right while Tim held me in his strong arms, and I felt for the first time in a long time that everything would be alright.  


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Well this was a pretty quick update, at least for me.  I worked pretty quickly through lots of class work, sickness, and writer's block in order to get this up before finals (which begin in four days—yikes!). Anyway, kinda a slow chapter, not much plot development—but I think it's pretty fun.**

**And to my faithful reviewer Molly: You rock my socks off. I hope you like this chapter as much as the rest of my story!**

Tim let go as suddenly as he had hugged me.  I was sad when he let go, yet elated that he had comforted me in this manner.  "Hey Tim," I asked him shyly, "do ya got anythin' I could drink?"

Tim looked bit surprised. "You wanna party? Shouldn't ya be with family? Ya know, to comfort each other or somethin'? " He looked slightly uncomfortable at that thought.  I doubted that Tim and his family were very big on the whole 'talk and comfort each other' thing.

"Nah, I don't want to party. I just—my dad was supposed to come get me, but he never showed," at this point I had to pause.  Tears were unwilling starting to build up in my eyes.  I blinked slowly until they disappeared.  I wasn't going to cry right there in front of Tim. Besides I didn't see the point; crying would neither make Becca any more alive, nor would it make my Dad or Tim love me more. "Fuck!" I yelled at the top of my lungs and kicked a dent into the nearest cop car. I saw shock quickly wash over Tim's expression. I suppose he had never actually seen me act that way.

I looked up at Tim and I could tell that my own facial features were displaying the harshest expression that had ever been seen on my face. "I just need some booze. You gonna help me out with this or what?"

Tim was looking at me with an expression I couldn't place. I had never seen him look this way. "Shoot," I thought to myself, "and I thought I was getting so good at reading him."

Tim stared a moment longer before he let out a short whoop of laughter. "You know I always got booze, kid. Course I'll share some with ya. Don't get your panties in a twist."

That did it. Any trace of hardness that was left on my face melted away, and I blushed furiously. Tim mentioning anything about my panties simply gave me a pleasantly queasy feeling. "That's more like the Kim I know," he said to me in the amused tone that he usually spoke to me with. "For a lil' bit there I thought maybe ya'd gone all hard. C'mon, let's head to my shack.  I got some liquor there and maybe Angela's got some clothes for you to wear."

I avoided eye contact. My face was still bright red and I didn't want him to see anything on my face that would give away how I felt about him. "That would be tuff," I quietly said, and we headed in the direction of the Shepard residence.

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I stared at myself in the mirror that hung on the wall in Angela's room.  She wasn't home, so I had just helped myself to a skirt and top that I assumed were clean. Her room was surprising clean. She was certainly less of a slob than I was. I surveyed the bare, undecorated walls of the room before returning my scrutinizing gaze to the mirror.  Angela and I weren't built in the same way, so her clothes didn't fit me very well at all.

I was quite a bit larger busted than she was, so her top was really tight. But apparently Angela's waist and hips were larger than mine. I had never noticed this before, but her skirt kept slipping down and where it should have fit nicely around my waist, it barely hung on my hips. The low-slung skirt and too-tight top revealed a bit of midriff, which was a bit embarrassing and a bit slutty, even for me.  Ultimately I decided I didn't look too bad. I definitely looked better than I had a half an hour before when I was still wearing my blood-stained clothes.

I exited Angela's room and headed down the stairs to the living room, where Tim told me he'd meet me when I was done changing clothes. I entered the living room and was surprised not to see Tim there.  I saw a television sitting on a milk crate that wasn't on, a shabby looking lamp on an equally shabby looking end table, and the back of a couch. 

"Tim?" I said.

Suddenly Tim's face popped up from behind the couch. "Shh," he hushed me and put a finger to his lips. 

I gave him a questioning look and walked around to the other side of the couch to see what was happening. Tim was kneeling on the floor next to the couch. Lying on the couch was Curly, sleeping peacefully. I immediately understood what was going on.  Tim had a permanent marker in his hand and there were many obscenities and lewd objects drawn on the face of Curly.

I broke into a grin and giggled softly. Tim grinned back at me and nodded towards the door, signaling for us to get out of the living room.  After we were out of the room and were in the kitchen, Tim asked, "You all set?" He looked me up and down, and I had to try my hardest not to feel uncomfortable. "Damn. Those clothes don't fit too well, do they?"

I shifted and nervously attempted to cover up my bare midriff. "Nah, don't," he said. I removed my arms from my stomach. "It don't look bad. You look tuff." He gave me a wink before he turned and opened a cupboard. "Whadya want ta drink" he asked. "I got half a bottle of rum and tequila. Or I got brandy. And somewhere I got some whiskey. Or beer, if you druther have that."

I shuddered at the thought of brandy, my last encounter with it still fairly fresh in my head. I knew I wanted something stronger and faster acting than beer. "How about that whiskey?"

He nodded and said, "Kay. It's up in my room." Tim turned and left the kitchen. I could hear him bounding up the stairs. I hesitated, not sure if I should wait for him in the kitchen or follow him up to his room. I turned and followed him, the desire to see his bedroom was simply too great for me to ignore.

I quickly ascended the stairs and followed the light through the open door to Tim's room.  He was rummaging through his closet when I entered. "So this is your room?" I asked.  It was actually much cleaner than I had imagined.  There were quite a few pairs of jeans laying on the floor, a couple empty beer bottles, a full ashtray on the nightstand, and the bed was unmade.  His walls were largely undecorated except for a lone hubcap that was hanging up next to a window. 

"Yup." Tim answered me as he withdrew with a bottle of Jack Daniel's. "Whatcha think? It's not all that nice or nothin', but hell, it's a place to sleep."

"No," I replied. "It's really pretty nice. It's so… clean." That really boggled my mind. I had honestly expected the place to be a pig-sty, unkempt, and quite simply, filthy.

"Well, Mom used to tan our hides if we were too messy. She's kinda a neat freak that way. I s'pose it just sort of stuck. Don't be tellin' nobody though. I won't do me no good with my gang for them to know I keep my room clean."

I nodded. I completely understood. It was one of those things expected of greasers.  Greasers were supposed to be too cool and tough to worry about keeping their home clean.  I had given up on that a long time ago. Dad never cared much and I wasn't hardly ever home, so I didn't see the point of trying to keep my room up.  I especially wasn't going to worry about doing something that wasn't tough, or that would ruin my image.

Becca always was the clean one.  I loved that about her. She picked up after me; she took care of me. She never became hardened; she was always so innocent…

A lump had built up in my throat while those thoughts coursed through my head.  I made a grab at the bottle in Tim's hand, hoping to get a drink or two in me, lest I begin crying.  He laughed and pulled the bottle out of my grasp. 

"Whoa there kiddo," he laughed. "Slow down. The booze isn't goin' anywhere. Let's get the hell outta here before Curly wakes up.  He's gonna be in one hell of a bad mood, and we ain't going to want to see that.  Little fucker has a nasty temper."

I smiled at Tim, thankful he had been able to lift my spirits yet again.  The man had a real knack for it. He gave me a grin back and exited the room.  I resisted the urge to sigh and followed him out the room and down the stairs. He tossed me his coat that had been hanging up on a hook next to the front door, and we left his house.

Apparently we were simply going to just walk around and drink, but I didn't care.  As long as I was with Tim somehow everything seemed okay.

**Am now going to beg for reviews. Only got 2 last time, but that's cool I guess. I just like to know if people still even care for my story.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Holy cats! I just got finished with the hardest final I've ever had to take in my entire life. Hopefully it went okay though. I guess time will tell. So what am I doing instead of studying for my last final (which takes place tomorrow)? I'm updating (even if it isn't that long of an update)! **

**Am once again going to beg for reviews. Everyone who has already reviewed: I love you. You are the main reason I feel compelled to finish this story. And finish it I will—just hang in there!**

The bottle was half empty, and my words were officially slurred.  Tim and I had been walking through the neighborhood laughing and talking. Somewhere in the back of my mind I was aware that I shouldn't be out drinking and laughing, that I should face up to reality and the horrible thing that had occurred.  Whenever that thought surfaced, I simply drowned it with another pull off the bottle.

Soon I wasn't walking anymore—I was stumbling. Around about the tenth time I tripped over nothing, Tim laughed and guided me to sit down.  I sat down with a thud on a bench and when the world stopped spinning so quickly, I saw a fountain in front of me.  "Shit," I managed to say, "When did we get ta the park?"  I honestly had no idea; my mind had been that preoccupied.

Tim chuckled, "We've been walking in the park for an hour. Let's just sit here a lil' bit, 'kay? You ain't walking so good anymore." We sat silently for a while, while Tim drank from the bottle.

With the silence, it was impossible for me to ignore the thoughts about Becca's death. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I needed to talk about it. "Hey Tim?" I asked. "You ever know anyone that died?"

Tim nodded. "Shit yeah. Never anyone as close as a sister or nothin' though. Why'da wanna know?"

I breathed in a deep sigh and answered, "'Cause everyone I love seems to die.  Becca. My mom. What if you…." I trailed off and mentally cursed the alcohol that was clogging my brain.  I hadn't spoken a word of my mother's death since her funeral, and I had no intention of drudging up memories of her.  On top of that, I had basically let my feelings for Tim slip! I prayed that he had overlooked or not heard my last comment.

I didn't think my prayer had come true, however, because Tim was looking at me with the oddest expression on his face. "So your mom's dead then? I was kinda wonderin' why you had a step mom. What happened?"

"I don't really wanna talk about it," I shortly answered. It was the truth.

"Fine by me," Tim replied in a rather teasing tone, "I don't want to talk about my feelings neither… Course if ya'd rather explain why you're so worried about me dying..."

Goddamn it! He had picked up on where I was going. He had to know how I felt about him.  I flushed red with shame and embarrassment.  "She killed herself. Locked herself in the garage while the car was on. It was five years ago. Happy?" I said with tears in my eyes.  I was so angry. Angry with Tim, my mother, myself, and most of all, the world. I was angry that I had to feel this pain, when all I wanted to do was just have a good time and be happy.

"Fuck me, Kim." Tim said in an almost caring tone this time. "I didn't know. I just wanted ta know more about you.  Hell, you're like a sister to me. Sometimes I even think you're a better sister than Angela is. But I don't know shit about you. And you—well, damn. You been worryin' about me like I'm your brother. I… you ain't got a reason to worry, kiddo. I can take care of myself. I ain't gonna be dying anytime soon." Tim stood up and threw the now-empty bottle into the distance.  After hearing the glass shatter, Tim looked at me and said, "Enough of this 'emotion' shit. Let's go get some more booze and see if we can't find a party. How 'bout it? We need a good time."

I stared up at Tim, still trying to get a grasp on his short little speech. On one hand I was relieved; I hadn't slipped up as badly as I had thought. On the other hand, Tim cared for me as simply a sibling and thought that the feeling was mutual.  It was almost like I had taken one giant step backward. I was definitely not going for sisterly-type feelings. "Oh well, fuck it," I thought to myself. "Tim's right. I need a good time."

I stood up, grabbing Tim's arm for balance. I was slightly surprised that such a little bit of contact with him could cause butterflies to flutter in my stomach (at least, I hoped they were butterflies and not the liquor). "C'mon," I said to him with my best attempt at a flirty smile.  Being intoxicated, I'm sure it was a bit lopsided and not nearly as enticing as it would be when I was sober, but I hoped the basic effect of it would still show. "There's gotta be something goin' on we can do." Tim laughed and lightly slapped me on the back. Once again we started walking in no particular direction.

**So, just a short little chapter, but I sort of felt that if I was to keep going, I was going to make Tim into a giant mush-pot of feelings, and I didn't want that to happen. I'm already a bit unhappy with how out of character he is in this chapter. We'll just have to see if I can't fix him up somehow in the next chapter.**

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	16. Chapter 16

**Sorry for the wait. This chapter wasn't originally in the outline I made of this story, but I had a dream that I simply could not ignore. I kinda like it.  It has more action in it than most of my chapters, and though it may not seem like it now, I can really use this to move the plot forward better than what I had originally planned. I hope you all enjoy it too. Please review! I live for reviews, and I think I should be able to update before midterm.**

"Hey Kim? How good are you in a fight?" Tim asked me suddenly, pulling me out of my drunken haze.  We had simply been quietly walking towards the nearest liquor store. Periodically Tim would hum a little tune, but I had opted to remain quiet throughout the walk.  I felt like I had already sufficiently placed my foot in my mouth earlier in the night.  Plus, simply being in Tim's presence gave me both a feeling of comfort and euphoria.

"Kim?" he asked me again when I didn't answer.

"Huh? Oh, I dunno. I ain't really been in one."

Tim looked surprised. "Really? Never?"

"Never ever. Why?"

" 'Cause I'm pretty sure the group of Socs that's been following us is gainin' on us. Nah, don't turn around and look," he said to me when I clearly showed alarm on my face. "There ain't so many of 'em."

I was scared. I didn't want to admit it, but I was frightened out of my wits.  I had never been jumped before, but I had heard horror stories of how messed up a bunch of Socs could leave the unaware greaser. "Should we run for it?" I tentatively asked, noting for myself that my voice was quivering.

Tim shook his head. "I ain't runnin' from no soc.  I'm not afraid of 'em, you ain't got no reason to get scared neither." Tim stopped dead in his tracks, his facial expression as hard as granite. "Fuck it," he said with determination. "I'll wait right here for the bastards. Those fuckers are pickin' a fight with the wrong greaser."

I looked up at Tim with what must have been wide eyes.  I couldn't tell whether he was just putting up a brave front or not.  For a brief moment I considered bolting.  Tim couldn't have held it against me; I was after all just a poor, little drunk girl.  That thought, however, quickly left my head.  I couldn't just leave Tim, and this could be a great way to show him (and myself) how tough I could be.

I steeled myself and stood by Tim's side.  As the group of Socs came closer, I grew steadily more anxious and even more determined not to show it.  Tim looked down at me and asked, "You fightin'?" 

For just a fleeting moment, the tone in his voice almost convinced me that Tim would not allow me to fight, but that was quickly dismissed as Tim handed me the switch blade from his pocket. I chided myself on the inside. Of course Tim wouldn't be so chivalrous; he liked tough fighting chicks.  "Take the blade. You might need it."

"What about you?" I asked. "Don't you need it?"

Tim smiled a recklessly, and my stomach flipped.  He looked very dangerous, and put quite simply, sexy. "I don't need it. I'm dangerous enough with just my fists." He cracked his knuckles, and for the first time, I was able to understand why people were afraid of Tim.  I could tell by the gleam in his eyes that I would never want to get on his bad side.

Finally the Socs were within less than a block of us.  I tried my very best to look tough and unconcerned at the same time. I'm sure I failed miserably, and looked nowhere near as cool as Tim did, as he waited patiently for the fight to begin. 

"Well, aren't you greasy scum-bags a little close to our side of town?" a tall, broad-shouldered soc called out. I silently counted the Socs. Nine of them.  Nine versus two…which was probably more akin to one and a half in all actually.  I was getting really freaked out.

"Nah. We go where we wanna go.  Seems to me, ya'll are the ones on the wrong side of town. I'd get back home if I were ya, I think your mama's callin'." Tim looked amazingly bored while he threw this insult out.  

A couple of the Socs visibly bristled at that comment, but one that kept his cool retorted back coolly, "Seems to me ya'll shouldn't be the ones throwing down insults. Seems to me ya'll are outnumbered."

"Maybe so," Tim answered without missing a beat, "but ya still got your work cut out for you. This girl here, she's a helluva lot tougher than she looks." Tim looked at me and discreetly winked. I schooled my face into the toughest expression I could manage and he continued, "And I make a livin' out of kicking the shit out of Socy-trash like ya'll."

"Well then, let's get this shit started," said the broad-shouldered Soc who seemed to be the leader.  At his word, all nine of the Socs advanced and descended upon Tim.   He tried to fight them off; he managed to throw a couple of good punches, but the numbers were too great for him.  Three of the guys held Tim's arms behind his back, while the rest took turns punching him and kicking him and spitting on him.  

For a few moments I was paralyzed with fear, and the Socs seemed to forget about me.  I was finally able to break my reverie when I heard one Soc say to another, "This is too damn easy."  I couldn't take it. A fight with Tim Shepard couldn't be easy, not for any greaser, and definitely not for any Soc.

I threw myself at one of the Socs holding back Tim's are.  I jumped on his back and sliced at his left arm with Tim's switchblade.  He yelled in pain, and suddenly the focus of each soc was on me.  This allowed Tim enough time to break away and tackle the broad-shouldered leader to the ground.  He instantly started pummeling the Soc while the guy I was clinging to tried his best to shake me off.  Two other Socs came to his assistance and the other five focused on pulling Tim off of his punching-bag.

I jumped off the Soc's back and the three closed in on me, and I protectively held the blade up in front of me.  "You dirty bitch," snarled the Soc who I had managed to cut with the knife, "You cut up my throwing arm.  You'd better hope you didn't do any permanent damage."  

As they slowly advanced, I slowly backed up. I knew I was showing that I was intimidated, but I didn't care.  All cared about was my safety, yet my pride wouldn't simply allow me to run away. Neither would my pride allow me to go down without a fight. One Soc quickly lunged in, but I counter-acted his lunge with a swift kick to the groin.  He fell the ground with an "Oof" while clutching at his crotch.  The other two closed in much quicker, and before I could react, the third soc back-handed me, his knuckle catching me in the eye and causing my head to whip to the left.  I dropped the blade in shock and as a reflex, belatedly attempted to protect my face.  The next thing I knew, the Soc I had originally attacked was tackling me.  I fell to the sidewalk, my head bounced off the pavement, and the world went dark.  


	17. Chapter 17

**My muse attacked me today during my Renaissance and Reformation class, and refused to leave me alone until I finished this chapter.  It sure was a welcome change to writer's block and forcing chapters out.  Unfortunately, I don't think I learned everything I should have about Lorenzo the Magnificent. Oh well, at least I've updated, eh?  **

"Kim? Are you alive? Kim?" A voice called, sounding very distant and fuzzy.  The world was still dark, my head throbbed, and my ears were ringing.  "Kim?" the voice cut through the ringing, tinged with desperation.  "C'mon girly. You gotta wake up." At this I could feel my shoulders being shaken.  I still didn't move; I just wanted to sleep, but someone felt otherwise.  I was shaken harder this time, aggravating my headache until I couldn't ignore it any longer.

I moaned and slowly opened my eyes.  It took a moment for my vision to clear, but when it finally did, I was elated (as elated as I could be, feeling as physically miserable as I did). My eyes focused on Tim's anxious face looking down at me.  His lap pillowed my head, and I was thoroughly surprised to see a look of worry on his face.

Tim while looking slightly panicked and despite the fact that I was obviously awake, continued to shake me. I groaned, "What the hell are you tryin' to do? Kill me?" Tim ceased shaking me immediately and a look of relief washed over his features.

"Fuck Kim," he said.  "I thought you were dead or in a coma of knocked retarded or somethin'." 

"No. I am very much alive I grunted and attempted to sit up.  Tim supported me and helped me sit up while I asked, "What the hell happened anyway? Where the shit am I? I don't remember a goddamn thing after I got pushed down by that Soc."

"Probably 'cause you were unconscious.  I think the Socs thought they'd killed you 'cause they got the fuck out of Dodge as soon as you were out cold."

"Oh," was my simple, stupid response. "Where are we?"

"You musta been really knocked silly. We're in my livin' room," Tim teasingly said.  

Once again, I couldn't find anything more eloquent to say than, "Oh." I felt incredibly stupid for not recognizing my surroundings. Tim and I couldn't have left his place more than a couple hours before. I didn't know what to say, except, "My head is killing me." My hands went to the back my head, which was the source of my pain.  My eyes widened in shock as a felt a gigantic lump underneath my fingers.  

Tim chuckled at my horrified look.  "You got a helluva goose egg there.  A real tuff shiner too," he added as he gently touched my eye; much gentler, in fact, than I ever could have assumed Tim Shepard to be.

"Oh yeah," I touched my eye and pushed on the swollen tissue surrounding my eye socket and winced. "That fucker clocked me pretty good."

"I saw that. You cut him pretty good too though. The bastard was bleeding like a stuck pig," Tim answered. "Wish I could get a decent chance at that jerk though. I woulda gone after him if I coulda. The damn coward, hittin' a girl.  I ain't never even hit a girl."

"Really?" I was surprised. "Not even Angela when ya'll are having a sibling squabble or something?"

"Yes really," Tim looked slightly offended. "It just ain't right, hittin' a girl.  If I ever saw a guy knockin' Angela around, I'd kill 'im."

I didn't doubt Tim's words.  He was a violent, passionate person and one hell of a fighter.  The fact that he could kill a person scared me.  "But you wouldn't actually want to kill someone and be a murderer, would you?" I quietly asked. I didn't want to be able to lump the love of my life into the same category as the bastard who had just taken my sister away from me.  Tears welled up and I quickly ducked my head before Tim could see.

"Hell yes, if I had the reason.. oh shit," he cut himself off at the sight of my crying.  "Damn Kim, I forgot about your sister.  Dang girl, I just--- Shit! I'm a dumb ass. Kim," he put his fingers under my chin to lift my face until I was looking directly into his eyes, "I'm sorry babe. I didn't mean it.  I wouldn't actually kill no one."

I smiled slightly, charmed by his attempt to make me feel better.  The tears that were in my eyes blurred his face slightly, but I still noticed for the first time that night how beat up his face was.  Tim was sporting a swollen, black eye, a split lip, and his left eyebrow was a bloody mess.  "Jesus, you look like shit," I shakingly half-laughed and half-cried. I was trying my hardest to bring the mood back to light-hearted, but was unable to stop my tears from flowing.  I had simply held them back too many times in the past 24 hours.

Tim merely laughed and replied, "I guess I probably do. Sorry you gotta look at my ugly mug."

"It's okay. I don't look so hot either."

"That's not true," Tim said.  I gulped, not entirely sure if I should believe my ears. Had Tim just called me hot?

A couple of seconds of awkward silence followed, though it felt like an eternity.  To end the silence, I leaned in a bit closer to examine Tim's bloody eyebrow.  I had all but finished crying as I sniffled, gingerly touched his wound and whispered, "Maybe you should get this checked out.  Ya might need stitches." My hand was shaking. I wasn't used to being so bold with Tim, and being in such close proximities made all the nerves in my body hum with excitement.

"Don't worry about it. I'm tougher than that," Tim quietly laughed.  My fingers were still on his face when Tim gently placed his palm against my cheek.  His thumb wiped away one last tear that was trickling down my face.

The silence was nearly unbearable.  Our faces were inches away.  I couldn't take the tension anymore.  I leaned in and connected my lips with his.  I poured my heart and soul and everything I had been feeling over the past couple days into that kiss.

Tim responded to the kiss, matching my intensity.  The chemistry between us was exactly right; without a doubt, it was the most amazing kiss of my entire life.

We broke for air and (cheesy though it may seem) stared into each other's eyes for a moment before Tim leaned in and kissed me again.  The kisses continued to increase in urgency until finally Tim gathered me in his arms, stood up, and carried me upstairs.

**Hey guys please drop a review before you go! It would really make my day**, **and stop me from being cranky (which my roommate would definitely appreciate)**. **So for her sake, just leave me a little note telling me if you think the story is on a good track or not. I need feedback!**


	18. Chapter 18

I groaned and rolled over. I had been sleeping peacefully until a burst of loud music woke me. "Tim?" I muttered without opening my eyes. When I received no answer, I opened my eyes and found the bed next to me empty.

I slowly sat up. With every movement, pain shot through my body, and with every beat of music, my head throbbed. "Tim?" I called again, this time louder. Light was flooding through the windows, indicating it was already late morning.

Still not getting an answer from Tim, I rolled out of bed and began searching the room for the clothes I had been wearing the night before. The fact that they were scattered all over the room caused me quite a bit of embarrassment; the fact that I couldn't clearly remember the details of the night made me feel even worse.

Fully clothed, I left the room in search of aspirin. I found none in the bathroom, so I headed downstairs, massaging my temples in a poor attempt to alleviate some of the pain. I followed the sound of the music to the kitchen. "Hey Tim, ya'll have any aspirin?" I said as I entered the kitchen.

I jumped at the sound of a feminine yelp and the crash of glass. The sound of the music diminished and I stood staring at Angela dumbstruck. Angela continued to stare at me, as though she expected some sort of explanation. Unfortunately, I had none to offer, so I simply looked at the floor and said, "Can I have some aspirin? My head is killing me."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say. "What the hell are you doing here?" Angela hissed. "I thought I was the only one in the house. For the love of God, can't a girl skip school in private once in a while. You scared the hell out of me. Why are you wearing my clothes? And we ain't got any aspirin!" Angela's voice rose throughout her rant, until she was shouting.

I wasn't sure where to start. "Well," I attempted to answer, "I need some clothes. My clothes…"

Angela cut me off. "You did it, didn't you?"

"Did what?"

"Don't play stupid. You slept with my brother! How could you? Couldn't you just leave him alone?" Angela's voice had softened, and I could tell that I had actually hurt her.

"I thought you were okay with it," I tentatively put forth.

Angela's dark eyes narrowed, and for a moment I thought she was going to smack me. You could practically feel the tension between us, until suddenly it evaporated. "I dunno," she told me, "I thought I was. But, man, I just don't want my friends fucking my brothers. I guess I lied."

I took a step closer to her. Angela was such a volatile creature, and I wasn't sure what to do. I felt like I should apologize, offer excuses, proclaim myself an idiot, and comfort her all at once; however, one step was all I was able to take before Angela burst out, "Just get out of my house. Now. I don't want to look at your ugly face any more."

I could feel my face crumple. "Okay," I quietly said. I turned and left, holding my head high. Just because I was being thrown out of the house of my friend didn't mean I wasn't going to keep my pride.

I walked away from the Shepard residence without a glance backward and feeling even more confused than before. I didn't want to feel bad about my actions. I truly had feelings for Tim, and Angela had given me her blessings. What right did she have to take them back?

But I did feel guilty. On top of all the things in my life, I had betrayed the only girlfriend I had. I was a disloyal friend, a tramp, and a bad sister. I could only think about what a horrible human being I was, and as I began crying, I cursed myself for being a weak person. I needed to buck up and quit being so soft. I quit crying and sat down on the curb. I wasn't going one step further until I could reign my emotions in and think clearly.

I hope this chapter wasn't too disappointing after such a long wait. That was the toughest chapter yet, and it's a lot different than I originally outlined. I just wanted more Angela in the story. She's such an interesting character. Ever since I last updated, I have honestly made an attempt to write more at least once a week. I just couldn't get past the first paragraph.

Once again, thanks to all my reviewers! You make me feel all warm and cozy on the inside.


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